


What Kind of Girl do you Like?  ..A Girl I can Use.

by CalamityJane



Category: Eyeshield 21
Genre: F/M, Love Confessions, OC
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-17
Updated: 2016-01-17
Packaged: 2018-05-14 12:09:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,498
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5743333
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CalamityJane/pseuds/CalamityJane
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>That's Youichi Hiruma's criteria for female's right?  And Asami knows that.</p><p>Takes place near the end of Hiruma, Musashi, and Kurita's last year of High School before they're off to college so if you haven't read the last chapter, there are spoilers.</p>
            </blockquote>





	What Kind of Girl do you Like?  ..A Girl I can Use.

“I don’t like it. You three’s ‘manly pride’ is stupid.”

“And your bitching is annoying.”

“Then don’t give me things to bitch about, stubborn jackass.”

“Or you could stop being sentimental, fucking priss.”

Asami sulked in the clubhouse, playing with a few of the miniature models they used as a visual representation to plot out their strategies. Hiruma was organizing the play cards and putting them away accordingly, the two seniors in their second to last week of class before graduation.

There’d be no more American football games to be had for them; the commander from hell had passed on leadership to their star running-back and soon they’d be out of this place for good… the club he’d built from the ground up.

She sunk her head onto her arms in defeat, knowing nothing she would say could change his mind. They’d achieved their dream after all, and even had a chance to play with Japan’s best high school players to take on America. The Deimon DevilBats had made history and now they had to go their separate ways.

Maybe she was being too sentimental, upset by the thought of Kurita, Musashi, and Hiruma all going to play college football separately when they’d all taken up the sport together since middleschool. She’d had little to do with that, but had been given the pleasure of watching it all unfold and it was heartbreaking to think that this chapter was over.

Kurita, Unsui, and Kotaro were going to Enma… Hiruma, Akaba, Agon, Taka and Yamato joined Saikyoudai as well as Ikkyu, and Banba. Musashi’s team worked for his father’s company and wouldn’t be underestimated with both Kid and Gaou making them formidable.

All of this to account for, Asami hid her face when she realized she was almost crying. It was pathetic for her to be so upset by their separation, remembering the tournament in America where they’d all worked so hard and played together just to split back up again.

She’d spent months toiling about what to do.

“Mamori-chan; she intends to be a manager for Saikyoudai… right? Did you ask her to?”  She finally spoke.

Silence hung thick in the air, nether teens daring to make a move. Normally Asami’s choice would have been obvious, joining the best team and following Hiruma like she’d originally done but… With Mamori there, she would undoubtedly be the better manager.

She was brilliant, mastering every rule and strategy and could give signals from the sidelines that Asami only wished she could memorize. Even though the taller woman with long wavy hair had an extra two years spent studying football, Mamori had caught on much quicker and surpassed her with ease… it would only make sense that she’d take a back seat if she wanted to try again as a manager, not to mention she was shamefully weak as a cheerleader as well when she’d tried that.

Asami finally stood up, heart thumping painfully in her chest as she already knew that he wanted useful people. Mamori was better, the perfect match to help him and after avoiding it for so long she’d finally asked with no answer given. It was probably better that way; if Hiruma had spelled it out for her it would only hurt because she knew who was more helpful without needing to hear his answer and maybe even the devil could pity her for that.

Out of most people who’d ended up on the team, Asami had been one of the few who wasn’t manipulated into it and had chosen to help without Hiruma’s prodding or scheming.

She’d been useful in Deimon, an icon that Mamori had refused to be. Asami had used her beauty and charms to draw others in and get their support, a rather pathetic way to bring attention to the DevilBats but aside from her encouragement, there wasn’t much else she could do. Even if she wanted to help with all her heart, she was just plain… her looks perhaps her only strength.

“I’m sure with her help you’ll have no trouble.” She spoke with as little emotion as she could, unable to look at Hiruma as her hand latched onto the doorknob to leave.

“Yeah, I asked her to be our manager.”

His answer made her freeze in place, stomach dropping and a dreadful pain washing over her. The words she’d been afraid of… but he didn’t stop there.

“She’s the best choice and works hard, a valuable person for the team who I know I can rely on. Anezaki would be my first and only option for a manager. She’s proved that and helped us a lot this year.”

Asami’s stomach churned, blood pulsing in cold fingertips feeling glued to the doorknob. She’d known that would be his answer all along but to hear him say it out loud…  _You’d never be able to take her place; she’s the one I want._  It was so rare for anyone to receive praise from Youichi Hiruma, when it came from his mouth it was certainly true.

The brunette with icy blue eyes attempted to swallow a lump in her throat, pain sharp in her chest as she’d felt many times before. She knew she couldn’t face him now; she needed to leave and break into pieces… she had to get away.

Her muscles reacted before she consciously chose to open the door, walking out till she was just out of site from the doorway before breaking into a sprint.

It hurt as much as she expected, the consequence she knew would be real as soon as he gave her the answer. She was shaking, trembling with tears free flowing. Pathetic, so pathetic.

If she was stronger… she would have been able to smile at him and wish him the best but… Hiruma had been the one who told her to stop lying to everyone. He’d helped her escape; realizing that trying to be perfect and please everyone around her was a losing battle. He was the only one to see through her, that she’d never have the strength to live like she was immune to the pain of no one seeing the real her.

_“I want to see what you’re trying to hide from everyone.”_

Apparently he hadn’t been very impressed, not as if she thought she was really worthwhile anyway. But still, to hear him say it out loud… how she couldn’t compare to Mamori… even if Asami knew it, his honest opinion regarding the two manager's difference in talent was enough to fill her with regret.

Finally she stopped running, collapsing behind a tree onto her knees, breath wheezing and crying like her body was desperately clawing for air. She hadn’t thought about the consequences, and her chronic asthmatic bronchitis was stealing the air from her lungs with the sobbing only ever making it harder.

Asami wanted to laugh; this issue originally being discovered when she’d tried to join Hiruma’s American Football team when she transferred to Deimon. She had no stamina, and even with an inhaler it was obvious she’d never be cut out for any kind of sport. Now as it attacked her again, it was only ironic.

Despite her struggle for breath, an agonized wail escaped her form, her face buried in her hands. A part of her wanted to give up and quit everything, terrified of seeing Hiruma again for fear of how he’d react but then she felt ashamed of herself.

It wasn’t as if she’d joined the team only for the blonde; Kurita and Musashi, their friendship had also meant so much and if it hadn’t than she never would have complained about their separate schools. No, there was more for her, just because Asami had no talent to be among the people she cared about didn’t mean it was over.

Her knack for music had always been there; even with her parents pressure for her to follow, it hadn’t taken away her early love for what she was best at. And now with what Hiruma had taught her, it was possible to really make friends with those people… she didn’t have to pretend to be perfect any more.

_It would be ok._

Her mind feverishly repeated the phrase, trying to believe it.

“Asami.”

A voice as familiar as her own heartbeat broke her from her thoughts in the dim afternoon light, not using her accustomed nickname befitting her family’s wealth; ‘fucking priss’ she’d acquired upon first meeting him as if having manners and money automatically made her a prissy girl.  That was three years ago, and she couldn't recall a time since then that he'd used her first name.

She didn’t reply, forehead rested on her knees while her arms clutched at her legs tight and still struggling to breathe as the sobs betrayed her. Glancing through a gap in the curtain of hair blocking his view of her, she saw his back rest against the same tree, familiar snap of his sugarless gum accompanying it.

“What do you think you’re doing taking off like that when your wimpy stamina can’t handle it?” His tone was aggravated, one foot stomping on the trunk of the tree while the other kept him upright.

“You’re the last… person to lecture me… on what’s possible or impossible…” As if the bastard had any right to talk about ambition.  Didn't he understand that she didn't want to be seen like this?

“Don’t be stupid taking fucking risks like that, especially when you were planning to be alone with no one to help when your dumb ass hyperventilates.”

If she wasn’t panting like this, boy would she give him a piece of her mind. He was practically a goddamn life inspiration coach with everything they’d gone through, demon façade aside. Asami would never be able forget the times Sena had been pushed to new limits during their games, almost damaging his legs in the game verse Shinryuji Naga because Hiruma pushed him and believed in him all the way to the Christmas Bowl and beyond. He wasn’t even the only one inspired, everyone knew it… Maybe she wasn’t worth the effort because there was no game on the line.

“Fuck off…” She weakly countered, wobbling onto her feet again. There was no way she’d argue with him about something so stupid, health be damned.

She wanted to be left alone and took off again, heart pounding frantically and lungs burning, begging her weak body to stop.

Asami heard him curse behind her, his steps picking up pace and long strides drawing closer. What was wrong with him?! She just couldn’t take him seeing her beak like this, it was the least he could do to just stay away so she could cry this off alone.  Hadn't she been humiliated enough?

Her chest felt an icy burn, gasps aching with every breath down her constricted throat making small wheezing sounds that thickened with her frantic sprint. Hiruma’s determination seemed to skyrocket when he could actually hear the jagged breaths of the brunette, going into full speed to yank her by the shoulders and cut off her route.

It didn’t take much to stop her yet she tried to pull away weakly, knowing she was infuriated by his pursuit though she couldn’t voice it with the air that got through. He held her still and upright, Asami’s ragged wheezing making his eyebrows knit downwards in frustration.

She still tried to tell him off but only managed a few scattered words and curses, hardly able to do much aside from wriggling helplessly in the quarterback’s hold.

“Stop talking and breathe.” He commanded, pinning her arms to the side to not hinder her air flow but she wasn’t getting any better, the fatigue and burning frustration of being unable to escape him caused angry tears and muffled sobs.

Hiruma didn’t turn her around, knowing she didn’t want to be seen like that but he had to tell her something to calm her down. “I’m sorry, ok? I fucked up, just… It was my fault, so I’m not going to leave.”

Even if he was concerned, the blonde was pissed at himself for being so hard on her when he’d found her, if he’d been an ounce more considerate… but it wasn’t like he was known for that.  Maybe he hadn't expected her to go so far to escape him; a rare lapse of judgement. 

He walked backwards a few steps, sitting on a bench and pulling her into his lap. Since he hadn’t brought an inhaler or anything, the best he could hope to do was let her rest and regain her breath though she’d have a hell of a time with a hoarse throat later.

He waited patiently; Asami’s breathing becoming less frantic with a few hiccups in between.

She didn’t have any other choice but to submit unless she wanted to kill herself and it’d be pointless trying to force herself away again with his superior strength and speed. A few minutes later, her posture sagged, leaning against his chest in exhaustion.

She was the one who spoke first, “Why couldn’t you leave me alone..?” Her voice pitifully small and pained.

He sighed, a cheek pressed against her back as his gaze lowered, “Back when the fatass and I were first starting Deimon’s American Football club, we couldn’t find anyone who’d join the team willingly unless I had some dirt on them. The only one I actually felt would be worth keeping was that fucking old man so naturally we tried sucking up to him, sending him subliminal messages and even helping out at his stupid job.”

“He asked me why I didn’t just blackmail his father’s company like I’d been doing with everyone else, using slaves to get threat material. I told him that a puppet wasn’t the kind of comrade I wanted, and the next year I lucked out with that fucking shrimp and everyone else who had the ambition to make it all the way with us.”

Asami listened quietly, wiping away the tears she’d shed with tired eyes. “Yeah it was lucky… being able to make a talented team that would be capable of winning… of course you’d only want those kinds of useful people by your side.”

His sharp eyes widened for a moment but she wouldn’t be able to tell. “So… you don’t think you’re useful?”

Her posture straightened again, staring down at her shaking hands, “I wanted to be… but I knew what you’d say, I’m not stupid or delusional enough to think I’d be better at being a manager then Mamori and we both know I’d never be able to cut it as a sport’s person. What you enjoy… I can’t be a part of it; I’d just get in the way. I knew that… but I still wanted for things to stay like this but I can’t be satisfied trailing behind her, even someone like me who wanted to endure anything for people I cared about… maybe I’m too selfish, but I don’t want to keep feeling like I have to fight for that.”

She felt her eyes water again, the difficulty of confessing this was just as heart-wrenching as she’d imagined: what she’d tried to run away from.  She'd been backed into a corner and he wouldn't let her leave without an explanation.

However, she was shocked when he suddenly spun her around, grabbing a leg and forcing her to face him head on. His eyes were frightening, like a cold anger was burning inside. She flinched away, not knowing what he was thinking for being angry at her when she’d only stated the truth.

With his sharp teeth bared, he snarled a reply, “What the hell are you prattling on about now, do you really think American Football is the _only thing_ I care about?!” Asami stared at him in confusion, not processing what he was trying to imply.

“Yeah that fucking manager is good at what she does, it doesn’t take a goddamn rocket scientist to figure that shit out, but so what? What does that have to do with you? Why the fuck would you want to be just like her anyway?”

If she was confused before, she was absolutely baffled now.

As long as she’d known him, he was aiming straight for his goals, entirely focused on the Christmas Bowl and Deimon’s American Football team. Yes, she knew he was more than just obsessed with winning, having chosen to follow Kurita instead of joining the strongest high school team… but even that was…

“You suck at being a manager, your lazy ass takes forever to get the stuff I need and you couldn’t memorize the play cards to save your life but guess what? It’s a fucking riot when you get pissed off and try to hide it and those dumbass’ on the team couldn’t function properly trying to dodge bullets without you getting on my nerves and babying their asses saying they’re ‘so great and have so much potential.’ Why in fucks name does your spoiled rich girl bullshit actually draw people in when you’re just as manipulative as I am?”

Asami blinked as the blonde devil’s long fingers captured her face in his hands.

“I don’t want you to be Anezaki Mamori, and I don’t fucking care if you choose to be a manager or not. If you have nothing to do with American Football ever again, it won’t change anything. I want you to do what you want, either do what you’re good at or not so long as it’s what makes you happy, ok?”

Her breath was stolen again, icy eyes filling with the tears she resented shedding.

The brunette's face fell forward into his shoulder, clinging to him with a new-found warmth she hadn't felt in the longest time, “I want to be with everyone… I want it so bad I can’t stand it.”

He exhaled softly, anger melting away and arms wrapped around her waist to hold her close. “I know. Even if we can’t all be on the same team again, it doesn’t mean it’s the end of everything. You know that I’m going to stalk out everyone at Enma, and even the fucking old man’s football club.”

“Y-Yeah…” She sniffled, hating her selfish wish and knowing she had to make a choice just like Sena, Monta, and the others would have to the following year. “Youichi, if you could choose what University I’d go to… what would you say?”

Hiruma pulled her back to face him, an annoyed frown and what she wanted to call a slight blush on his face as he answered, “…Enma would be good for you. They’ve got a good music program and it’s farther away from those obsessive parents of yours.”

She tilted her head, noticing him avoid her eyes. “That’s true… so you think that’s what I outta pick?”

He sighed in irritation, arms crossing in front of her. “Bah I don’t care, just pick a school already fucking priss.”

She narrowed her eyes and poked a finger at his collarbone, “Oh no, you’d better be telling me the truth. If I’m not allowed to lie, you defiantly have to return the favor! Do you really want that?” She hissed.

Hiruma growled, devilish glare dangerous as he slapped away her hand. “Don’t be fucking stupid; what do you want me to say? Go to Saikyoudai with me? How damn possessive do you think I am?”

“No you listen to me, I already told you that the reason I came to Deimon was because of you and Kurita; I followed you here once already and if you’re indifferent then I’m not going to do it again, got it?” She gave him a stern look, mimicking his crossed arms with her own defiant pose.

“What, you think I’m like that fucking dread or something? I told you to think for yourself and I meant it,”

“That’s not what this is about!!”

“Then what is it about?!”

Asami’s face reddened, shrill tone growing in volume, “Because I want to be with you idiot! You’re a terrible person but I love you, understand?!”

Hiruma was stumped this time, staring at her like a foreign species.

“So if you don’t want to be bothered by a woman you can’t use to help you win football games, then tell me now… because you’ve failed to scare me away, oh so terrifying ‘Commander from Hell.’”

The blonde suddenly cackled; the shrill, almost demonic laugh echoing around the campus.  
  
“Fine then, you should know by now that I don’t plan on letting you escape so if you don’t have the guts, go running home little rich girl.” He smirked, hands gripping her sides.

Asami beamed, arms circling around his neck, “Oh please… I’ve never been afraid of you a day in my life.”

His eyes sparkled in amusement, sharp fangs shown in a grin, “Oh I’ll change that, I promise.”


End file.
